


Equivalent Exchange

by icelandicc



Category: Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: & it takes place directly following soushitsu, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Speculation, Drama, Gen, Illustrated, cus this is about some of the kyousei leaks, spoilers for films 1-4 and potentially 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelandicc/pseuds/icelandicc
Summary: “Stop pretending that you care,” It wasn’t a demand. More of a statement.





	Equivalent Exchange

HolyAngemon smashed into the side of one of the ice cliffs, sheets of ice shattering in symphony. The light of evolution engulfed him as he reverted, Patamon lying heaving on his side under a small heap of ice shards.

“Patamon!!” Takeru ran towards where Patamon lay, tripping over himself in his rush. He slid to his knees beside Patamon and scooped the little digimon into his arms. Patamon raised his head and buried himself in Takeru’s shirt with a whine.

“Takeru, I'm sorry. Just when we could finally help out too…” Takeru shook his head and clutched Patamon to his chest, pressing his face to the top of Patamon’s head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Patamon. You did so good. I'm so proud of you.” Patamon nuzzled into Takeru and smiled hugely.

Meicrackmon’s screech broke through the air, her form darting left and right with blinding speed as she ricocheted off of Garudamon’s outstretched arm and towards Atlurkabuterimon’s horn, glowing with the beginnings of an attack.

Patamon frowned deeply at the sky, crackling with negative energy, flashes of deep purple and red pulsing through the swirling mass of clouds like lightning.

Meicrackmon let out another horrible yowl, body shaking with exertion as she surged forward towards Garudamon again.

Taichi stumbled into view, Koromon in his arms. The baby digimon’s eyes were drooping and he looked utterly exhausted. He must've been, because he wasn't complaining about being taken from the fight.

“Takeru, we need to get out of here, we aren't prepared for this!! At this rate, Yamato will…” he gave a worried look over his shoulder where, as if on cue, MetalGarurumon flew into the steep incline of ice, falling to the ground as ice collapsed on top of him. He struggled to stand, bits of debris cascading from his shoulders with a sharp hiss and the crack of crumbling ice. Yamato wasn't far behind, sprinting towards the huge wolf with a bitter frown on his face, thinly veiling the concern for his partner.

Taichi turned back, eyebrows upturned.

“Mimi and Jyou went for Meiko, and we need all the help we can get securing a way out. Sora found a distortion the leads back towards the forest but who knows how long it’ll be there for. We need to get everyone together as quickly as possible, and Mimi and Jyou will probably need some more help. We've gotta-” Taichi tapered off, staring past Takeru, mouth slack. Takeru’s expression turned to confusion and he turned to look behind him.

Clouds of ice fog flurried from where the dust was still figuratively settling, a rough indent marring the ice where HolyAngemon had crashed.

A boy was huddled towards the tail end of the valley, cornered by massive chunks of ice. He was curled in on himself, shaking his head back and forth madly. His hands shielded his ears from the sounds of mayhem around him.

His middle school uniform was black and stood out against the bright, translucent blue of the ice cliffs. Beside him sat a pale yellow baby digimon, frills pointed upwards in alertness.

Takeru's eyes went wide.

“Is that…” Taichi managed, his grasp on Koromon going a fraction tighter.

Takeru took a shaky step forward, Patamon climbing up to perch on his shoulder, anxiously flitting his wings.

There wasn't- _he couldn't-_

“...Iori?” Takeru’s hands were shaking. He fisted them at his sides in an attempt to make them stop. The boy didn't respond, going on with his disturbed shaking. Takeru took a few steady steps forward before he lapsed into nervous stumbles again.

“Iori!!” Takeru called, louder this time. Something in him snapped into place and he broke haphazardly into a run. Patamon clung to his collar, startled by the sudden lurch.

The boy went rigid, then raised his head and Takeru’s run faltered, almost came full stop. Hell, it _was_ Iori. Without a doubt. His familiar green eyes, swimming with fear, dark lines etched under them. The spray of freckles across his nose. His hair was a bit longer than Takeru remembered it, reaching further down the back of his neck and falling over his ears and cheeks. His face was more angular too, the baby fat not entirely gone, but definitely on its way.

But, something was wrong.

Upamon was silent, sitting very still and looking straight up at Iori like he was before. It was almost like he didn't realize Takeru was there. Iori gently picked him up in his arms and rose cautiously, bracing himself with his back against the ice. He was still badly shaking, despite how his eyes had hardened at the sight of Takeru and Taichi, who had followed Takeru after Iori had been identified.

Takeru skid to a stop in front of Iori, mind fuzzy from a cocktail of emotions; worry and fatigue and confusion and relief.

“Iori,” he said again, soft and heavy.

“Takaishi,” Iori returned, aloof and not at all like Takeru had expected. His voice had dropped an octave thanks to puberty, and but it wasn't that that made him shudder. There was something else. A layer of anger underneath Iori’s voice, buzzing just beneath the word. This wasn't the first time Takeru had heard it. He thought back to BlackWarGreymon, and Iori’s stubborn defiance. They'd both been a lot younger then, though, and Takeru supposed he'd thought Iori would grow out of the bulk of it naturally, that childish, borderline reckless part of him that yearned so earnestly for justice. No, that part of Iori wasn’t anything new, but what was new was that the cold anger was very obviously directed at _him_.

“Iori how are you _here?_ It's dangerous! Where have you even been all this time?” Takeru’s head was reeling with questions. He took another step forward and reached out to take Iori’s arm and help support him, but Iori jerked away, holding Upamon to his chest almost protectively.

“Stop pretending that you care,” It wasn't a demand. More of a statement. Iori’s voice was deeply sad, and run through with that frigid anger from before.

Takeru staggered, taken aback.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” His voice sounded hysterical even to his own ears. He could feel Taichi’s eyes boring holes into the back of his skull.

“You don't care about me. I know, so you don't have to act like you do anymore.” Iori said simply. Takeru’s confused smile faded.

“How long have I been gone? Days, weeks, _months?_ Would it even matter?” Iori ground out. His eyes flashed violent purple, the data at the ends of his fingers distorting momentarily, dotted red with corruption. Takeru drew in a stuttering breath.

“Iori, you-”

“It's bad, it's _really_ _really_ bad. Daisuke and the others, they,” Iori choked on the rest of the sentence, breaking off into a short, bitter laugh. He clutched his face in his hands, Upamon hopping up onto his shoulder and turned to face them. Its irises were consumed entirely by an unearthly white.

Patamon shivered from his position on Takeru’s shoulder, shaken up at Upamon’s appearance. He pressed into the crook of Takeru’s neck. Takeru heard Taichi shift behind him.

Meicrackmon’s presence was reaffirmed by a pained shriek as she swung wildly at Garudamon’s wing and was knocked aside by the latter’s sharp kick. Atlurkabuterimon roared threateningly as Meicrackmon turned towards him.

Iori looked at Patamon on Takeru’s shoulder, eyes slanting upwards in an open display of misery.

“Jogress partners, huh?” He murmured. “But it's not like you bothered to look for me did you, Takeru- _san_.” Iori spat the honorific like it was something vile. His data wavered again, alternating green and red, trying desperately to right itself. An ouroboros. A faint, purplish aura emerged, contorting and curling around Iori's limbs.

                                

Iori's eyes went dark and he looked down, voice lowering back to that soft, sad tone from before.

“I have to wonder, were we ever really friends in the first place?”

Takeru was frozen in place, pupils blown and body shaking. Takeru felt Taichi draw up beside him.

“Iori, Takeru, we need to go _now_. There's no time. You can do this later, both of you!” Taichi said fiercely, looking anxiously behind him again, where Atlurkabuterimon had landed on the edge of one of the ice cliffs, nursing one of his legs gingerly after Meicrackmon had landed a nasty blow.

“ _To hell with that!!”_ Iori snarled, drawing his fists closer to his chest, assuming an offensive stance. “You’re crazy if you think I'll go anywhere with you after you, you _abandoned_ us!!”

“We didn't abandon you!!” Takeru fought back the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

“We didn't- I didn't-”

“What was it than? Did you just forget about me altogether?” Iori demanded. His right hand sunk down to his waist where Takeru saw his fingers clasp around his D-3.

“Iori please!! I don’t want to fight you! Come with us so we can get this all sorted out! _Please!_ ” Takeru’s voice broke towards the end, and barrier that had been holding back his tears broke with it. He hadn’t meant for this, hadn’t meant for _any of this._  Hell, if he could just go back and make things right-

Everything seemed to go absolutely silent, the sounds of the fight and Taichi and Patamon frantically calling his name fading into the background until they were as numb as Takeru felt.

“ _I don’t know what I ever saw in you_.”

Ankylomon’s blank white eyes stared mindlessly. Stared straight through Takeru like he wasn’t even there.

Meicrackmon let out a piercing cry that sounded for all the world like death itself.

Far past them where the valley met the bank, Gennai sauntered past, Meiko’s limp body thrown over his shoulder. Strands of Mimi’s hair between his fingers and flecks of Jyou’s blood on his hands. He shot Takeru a knowing grin and then he was gone.


End file.
